


Actually Pretty Good at This

by princesswanderer



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Fantasy High
Genre: Baby Tracker, Campaign: Fantasy High (Dimension 20), During Canon, Found Family, Jawbone POV, Jawbone just being really good at his job, Literal Found Family, Mordred Manor, Multi, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, wholesome content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesswanderer/pseuds/princesswanderer
Summary: Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, drug dealing werewolf, led such a strange, eventful life that it's not so foolish for him to think that he was prepared for just about anything. But he was not prepared to be somebody people actually depended on. He was not prepared to change lives or to have his life changed.Prepared or not, in a few short years, he transforms from a drug dealer with only himself to worry about to a high school counselor with a whole manor full of people who need him. Suddenly, he finds himself responsible for the well being of a bunch of crazy kids who keep having the fate of the world put on their shoulders whether they were ready or not.Jawbone O'Shaughnessey may not have been prepared for the people who came in and changed his life, but he is somebody they can depend on for love, support, and damn good advice.It turns out Jawbone is actually pretty good at this.
Relationships: Adaine Abernant & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Aelwen Abernant & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Ayda Aguefort & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Jawbone & the whole cast, Jawbone O'Shaughnessey & Tracker O'Shaughnessey, Kristen Applebees & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Ragh Barkrock & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Sandralynn Faeth/Jawbone O'Shaughnessey, Zayn Darkshadow & Jawbone O'Shaughnessey
Comments: 16
Kudos: 79





	Actually Pretty Good at This

Jawbone O'Shaughnessey had led such a strange life that sometimes it felt like his lycanthropy was the most normal thing about him. He’d done and dealt every drug he ever heard of, smuggled iguanas over the border of Highcourt and Solace, traveled the Celestine seas and fought pirates, and had had every kind of sex imaginable with every kind of person he’d come across. It was not so foolish for him to think that he was prepared for just about anything, but he was not prepared for the knocking on the door of his crappy little apartment in the suburban town of Elmville.

Knock knock. Jawbone, having stayed out late at the Black Pit selling snuff powder the night before, could not conceive of why anyone would be knocking on his door at such an early hour. Knock knock knock. What time was it anyway? The crystal timepiece next to his mattress read 1:34pm. Knock knock. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jawbone yelled in the direction of the front door. His spine popped as he stretched and pulled himself up off the mattress. His head swam from the sudden shift to a vertical position. He grabbed the first t-shirt he saw from the floor and put it on, not noticing it was inside-out. He almost left to answer the door like that, but as the knocking continued it occured to Jawbone that whoever was at the door might not be someone he should greet in his boxers. The waistband of the stained sweatpants just barely made it to the correct position on his hips when he opened the door  
.  
The light from the hall, significantly brighter than his dark apartment, assaulted his eyes as his head reminded him how much he drank the night before. His eyes blinked furiously for the few seconds it took for them to adjust and finally he was able to see the culprit behind the knocking.

Standing at the threshold was a young teenage girl in a dress with tons of thick brown hair, strong eyebrows, and an upset, but determined expression on her face that he knew very well. She was the spitting image of Jawbone’s brother and, if he thought about it, his human self. Jawbone was very grateful he thought to put on the sweat pants.

“Uh, hi. Your, um, Richard’s girl, right?”

She nodded as a look of pain and anger flashed across her face.

“What brings you all the way to Elmville, uh…?” He squinted. He hadn’t seen her since his mother’s funeral half a decade ago and only a few times before that. He couldn’t remember her name.

“Tracker.” Her voice was as firm as her expression, but then she faltered a little and suddenly became shy and nervous. Quietly she repeated, “It’s Tracker. I’m here because I just thought...” She trailed off and just stared at the ground.

‘Tracker’ was definitely not the name he was trying to remember. That was when he noticed two more things, a scabbed up wound in the shape of a bite mark on her arm and the large duffel bag on the floor beside her that looked so stuffed that it was at risk of exploding. Suddenly, he understood exactly why his estranged niece was at his door.

“Ah, Tracker, I see. I’m just Jawbone now too. Or Uncle Jawbone, I guess. Come on in, can’t have my niece just standing outside like a stranger.” He opened the door wider and gestured for her to come inside.

Tracker picked up her duffel bag and entered the dark apartment. She stood awkwardly in the living room before hesitantly sitting on a part of the futon that wasn’t covered in beer cans or chip bags. 

“It’s great to see you again, Tracker kiddo.” Jawbone’s headache disappeared. He didn’t have time for one right now. As soon as he closed the front door, he rushed over to the windows to open the blackout curtains he duct taped there years ago and turned on some lamps to brighten the apartment. He then began to pick up as much as trash as he could hold from the living room and deposit in the underutilized kitchen trash can. “Can I get you something to drink? I have coffee, water, milk… no scratch that the milk is bad, you’re too young for beer, I think I have some lemonade powder somewhere.”

“Um, water, please. Thanks, Uncle Jawbone.”

“One water coming right up.” Jawbone poured her some water in a glass he was pretty sure was clean and started a pot of coffee for himself. He set the glass down on the coffee table and sat down on a chair next to the futon. “Alright, you drink that. I’ll get you some snacks if you want ‘em. And when you’re ready, I want to know what brought you to my doorstep. But you take all the time you need, okay?”

Tracker nodded nervously and slowly drained the cup of its contents. By the time she finished her glass, Jawbone had already sat back down with his coffee and she just sat still in silence for a long moment. Jawbone was just about to ask if she wanted another glass when she finally spoke.

“I, uh. I ran away from home,” Tracker started. She took a deep breath before she continued. “No, that’s a lie. They kicked me out. I just packed my bag and ran before they could physically make me leave but they told me I wasn’t ever allowed to come back. They kicked me out because I don’t want to be a follower of Sol anymore. How could I after…” Her fingers began to trace the remnants of the bite mark on her arm. She looked down like she was trying to hide how hard she was trying not to cry. 

“Your folks always were pretty religious. I never really understood all that myself. Uh, how long has it been since…?” Jawbone gestured at her arm.

“Almost two months.”

“What happened?” As soon as he asked, he regretted it. It was clear from Tracker’s expression that this was not a story she was ready to tell. “You don’t need to tell me now. You can tell me when you’re ready. It’s okay if that time never comes, but I’ll have a story to tell you too. How’d ya know where to find your ol’ Uncle Jawbone?”

“I found this in a box of Grandma’s stuff.” Tracker pulled out a small leather bound notebook out of her pocket and handed it to him.

Jawbone recognized it once it was in his hands. His mother’s address book. He flipped through the pages relishing the messy curve of her handwriting and found his entry. The name she gave him was there written in pen and then crossed out with pen later on so that it was impossible to read. Written next to that was “Jawbone” and below was an old crystal number that he hadn’t used in years and the address for Strongtower Luxury Apartments.

He ran away at seventeen after contracting lycanthropy. By the time she tracked him down, he had already been dealing drugs and living in his hybrid form for years. He started to go to family events again but only when she insisted that he come. Everyone was uncomfortable about his attendance except for his mother and the kids who were too young to feel the tension. Jawbone remembered a very little Tracker and one of his nephews running around his legs and asking him a million questions before their parents were able to drag them away. He never bothered coming back after his mother died, though he did always wish he could have gotten to know his nieces and nephews better. 

Guilt pulsed through his mind as he thought that he should have been more careful about the wishes he makes. Jawbone looked up from the address book to Tracker’s brown eyes. He didn’t realize that he had started crying until he saw the concern on her face and felt the wet tears on the fur of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry to bother you I just...I didn’t know where else to go,” Tracker burst as tears welled in her years and started pouring down her cheeks. Her legs drew up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them and hid her face behind her knees. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Jawbone’s instincts were to rush as fast as possible, but they were still relative strangers and he didn’t want to scare her. So, he got up, pushed aside what trash was left on the futon, and sat down next to her. His hand went to draw soft, soothing circles on her back with the tips of his claws.

“No, I’m sorry, kiddo. You never should have had to deal with something like this. I understand exactly how hard it can be. I’ve been where you are right now and it was awful, but back then I didn’t have anyone I could go to who understood. But now I have you and you have me. I think being together we can make things a lot easier.”

Tracker lifted her head to look her uncle in the eyes, tears staining her face and wet marks on her dress. “So I can stay here with you?”

“Of course you can stay here with me!” 

The sentence wasn’t fully out of his mouth before Tracker grabbed his torso in an iron strong hug and started to create wet spots on his inside out shirt. 

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Jawbone!”

“Of course, kiddo. I got ya.”  
…  
There were, of course, some logistical problems at first. Like the fact that Jawbone only had one bed. He did however have an empty room in his apartment after his last roommate was either arrested or fled the country (Jawbone couldn’t remember which) and no one else would move in once they saw the fur. Jawbone didn’t mind much since it was nice having an extra empty room for full moons anyway. For that first night, however, after ordering some pizza Jawbone put the only clean sheets he had on his mattress, so Tracker could sleep there while he crashed on the futon. 

“Are you sure you're alright with me sleeping here? I really don’t mind sleeping on a futon especially since you didn’t know I was coming,” she resisted, not wanting to be a burden.

“Hm, now that’s funny because I really don’t mind sleeping on the futon especially when my niece traveled alone for hours just to get here and deserves to sleep in a proper bed,” he insisted. “Just for tonight, kiddo. We’re gonna get you your proper bed tomorrow but Uncle Jawbone is more than happy to take the futon, okay?”

“Okay,” she yawned. “Just for tonight.” She fell asleep that night within a minute of climbing into bed. 

The next day, Jawbone grabbed a large wad of bills from one of his secret savings stashes hidden in the apartment and took Tracker to the store to get everything they’d need for her to live there. Some of it was easy like picking the highest quality bed they could find for the cheapest price. Some of it was fun like picking out colors of her sheets or finding inexpensive things to decorate with. However, there were times while they walked about the aisles of the stores that the true weight of what they were doing hit Jawbone. 

‘What all does a fourteen year old girl need anyway?’ crossed his mind. He, after all, had never been a teenage girl before. How was he supposed to know everything they were going to need? What if he screwed up? This wasn’t just another relationship or some quirky project. This was a whole ass person. A whole ass person who didn’t have anywhere else to go. If he screwed up bad enough, he could mess Tracker’s whole life up. 

Tracker, however, was a fourteen year old girl. And, she did know what she needed, what she brought in her overstuffed duffel bag, and what she wanted, such as the t-shirt with the moon and three howling wolves on it. She didn’t need any extra shirts. She knew she brought enough to wear, but she couldn’t stop staring at it as they passed by with their cart. It was the kind of thing her mother would never have even let her try on.

Following her eye line, Jawbone figured out one thing he could do which he was confident would not be a mistake. “Uh, hey kiddo, why do you go pick out whatever kind of ice cream you want while I save us a spot in line for a register?”

“Oh, sure!” Tracker’s eyes lit up. “What kinds of ice cream do you like, Uncle Jawbone?”

“I love just about every kind of ice cream; I’d eat ice cream even if it was shoe flavored! You get any flavor that speaks to ya, but maybe not shoe flavor. Now that I think about it that might be pretty bad.” 

“No shoe flavored ice cream. Got it!” Tracker giggled and hurried off to the freezer elemental section.

Waiting until she turned a corner, Jawbone plucked the t-shirt she looked at with such longing and quickly purchased it at a self checkout station before getting in line for a register like he said he would. He had just enough time to slide into place before Tracker returned with a gallon carton of triple chocolate griffin tracks ice cream. 

“Superb choice, kiddo!”

Tracker gleamed.

On their way home, Jawbone called up a trusted friend to help him move all of the new items and furniture from his truck to the apartment. It didn’t take too long, but by the time everything was upstairs and in the correct room his fur was wet with sweat. A curious feature of his werewolf hybrid form was sweating like a human despite being covered in fur. Jawbone didn’t mind. Though, it made him look rather ridiculous at times. 

While he took a much needed shower, Tracker began the arduous task of taking all the pieces of her new bedroom furniture out of their boxes. The niece and uncle team worked until dark assembling furniture, becoming increasingly frustrated by poorly written instructions, losing and finding tiny screws and bolts, misplacing screwdrivers, and rearranging the room several times. They took a break for a healthy dinner of leftover pizza, potato chips, and triple chocolate griffin tracks ice cream before returning to work, decorating and unpacking. It was late when the two finally collapsed sideways on Tracker’s newly made bed, the living room thoroughly taken over by a mountain of cardboard boxes and packing material. 

“We did it,” Tracker said into her new comforter before turning around to lay on her back. She giggled from relief and victory. “We finished unpacking!”

“Not quite. You got one more thing to put away,” Jawbone said as he pulled the last shopping bag from where he hid it. “Here you go, kiddo.”

Tracker sat up looking confused and removed the final item from the bag. As the t-shirt unfolded in front of her eyes, the confusion melted away from her features. She just sat there, mouth slightly agape, silently staring at the shirt and then at the whole room. She hugged the shirt tight to her chest and closed her eyes as tears started to stream down her face. 

“Welcome home, Tracker,” Jawbone spoke just above a whisper as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

Tracker’s arms suddenly wrapped around his neck as she jumped up to hug him. When her grip finally loosened, she looked up at him, and a big toothy smile splashed across her face. “Thank you, Uncle Jawbone!”  
...  
It amazed Jawbone how quickly he adjusted to Tracker living with. It felt normal despite how much had changed. Like, he started cooking which he never really did before just so he could make meals for the two of them. It perhaps took a little bit longer before the food was consistently good enough for them to not have to order emergency pizza every couple nights. The first time he made pancakes without burning a single one was a day of great pride for him. The apartment stayed a lot cleaner and brighter on a consistent basis too. He found himself always wondering if the elemental system in the apartment was running too hot or too cold for her or if they got enough natural light. 

Tracker also seemed to be adjusting to her new environment as it was to her. Despite buying razors during their first shopping trip, she stopped shaving a little after a month with no mother to nag her into it. She never bothered to pluck her eyebrows as they slowly merged into one. The shirt Jawbone got her immediately seemed to be her favorite as she practically wore it everyday. The dresses she brought with her, like the one she wore when she arrived, appeared less and less often until Jawbone took her to the thrift store to trade them for band tees and jeans. She looked so much more comfortable with herself.

Eventually, Jawbone even brought Tracker with him to the Black Pit whenever good bands were actually playing. Though he’d always make sure either his bouncer or bartender buddies could keep an eye on her before he would peel off to another part of the building to sell his wares. He loved introducing her to new music and giving her the chance to meet people. People like them. She started to become friends with other young women with lycanthropy. The lead singer in a local punk band, a werewolf herself, seemed to take Tracker under her wing and teach more about culture than Jawbone could. 

...

A few months into Tracker living in Strong Tower Luxury Apartments, Jawbone concluded there was a conversation they had avoided which couldn’t be avoided much longer. On a lazy Saturday morning, Jawbone prepped ingredients for pancakes and his mind for an uncomfortable conversation. Before he could start the batter though, Tracker entered the kitchen area holding the pair of scissors Jawbone trimmed his facial fur with and one of the razors she abandoned months ago. 

“Jawbone, can you help with something?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.” Jawbone leaned against the counter. “But with what?  
”  
“I need help shaving my head.” Tracker smiled, nervous but excited.

Jawbone was no hair stylist, but shaving someone’s head didn’t sound so hard. Plus, he figured that would be a good time for them to talk. “Let’s do it!”

Locks of brown curly hair soon covered the sink and scattered all over the bathroom floor. The recently shortened hair in the middle of Tracker’s head was arranged in hilariously misshapen buns to keep it out of the way of the razor. Jawbone kept his hand as steady as possible as he glided the razor across the side of her head. Halfway through shaving the left hand side, he tried to sound casual as he brought up a new subject conversation. 

“So, uhh, what are you thinkin’ about doing for high school this fall?” He could feel her stiffen as her eye grew a bit wider in the mirror. He pretended not to notice. “You have a few options I guess. There’s Mumple which I heard is pretty decent. Couple of my buddies graduated from there back in the day. And, ah, there’s some adventuring academy pretty close to here actually. A lot of talk around town about that one and how…”

“I don’t want to go back to school.” Tracker’s eyes avoided Jawbone’s in the mirror. “I was never very good at it and I don’t want to go to some brand new school and likely be the only werewolf in my class.”

Jawbone paused and took a deep sigh before continuing with the razor. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that. Now look, I dropped out of school after I got lycanthropy too, so I ain’t gonna make ya go against your will. But, if you’re sticking with the decision not to go to school, it’d make your ol’ uncle feel a heck of a lot more comfortable if you spent your time doing something, not necessarily a job or nothing, just something that might help figure out some paths for your future. That sound like a good deal to you, kiddo?”

“Yeah!” Tracker smiled. “I actually have been meaning to tell you that I am thinking about becoming a devotee to the Galicaea, the goddess of the moon. ”

“Pretty appropriate, I’d say,” Jawbone chuckled. 

“Luna’s been telling me all about her and I think I really want to get back into clerical spell casting too!” Tracker had to concentrate harder on not moving her head too much as the excitement built. “Being a healer and a cleric was always my plan for when I grow up. I thought I had to give it up when I didn’t want to follow Sol anymore, but everything Luna has told about Galicaea and how she is deeply connected to spirituality of lycanthropy just feels right.”

“Seems like we have a plan then.” Jawbone smiled with pride and relief, grateful that they finally had the conversation he had been quietly dreading.

Their eyes met in the mirror and they smiled at each other. After a moment however Tracker’s unibrow scrunched and her eyes darted away. The tension from before returned to the room, as it became obvious to Jawbone that she had something she struggled to bring up just as he did. 

“Um, Jawbone, how do you feel about, like, girls who like other girls in, like, a… kissy kinda way?” She managed to say in an even tone before rushing to add, “Or boys who like boys, of course.”

“I think girls who like girls,” he tried to make eye contact in the mirror again without coming across too aggressive, “or boys who like boys, of course, are completely normal folk. I mean I’ve liked girls, boys, and every other type of person you could think of over the years, so you won’t ever hear me getting pissy about who a person likes. Plus, girls who like girls tend to be pretty dang badass in my experience.”

“Oh, neat.” Her shoulders visibly lowered as the tension released. 

“Can I ask why you wanted to know?”

“...Luna is really, really pretty.” Her voice, quiet.

“I think Luna will really, really like this new look you got here.” He matched her tone. There was a long moment of contented silence as he focused on finishing her new hair style. When he finally felt satisfied that he didn’t miss any unsightly spots, he took a step back. “I think we’re done.”

Tracker pulled the hair on top of her head out of the unfortunate buns and moved her face in every direction to check out how it looked in the mirror. The corners of her mouth rose and her eyes watered a little.

“Thanks Jawbone.” Her eyes met his again. “It’s perfect.”

It was not perfect. Jawbone definitely wasn’t a virtisio barber with hidden talents, but he was proud of what he was capable of. “I agree, kiddo.”  
…

**Author's Note:**

> I did something I never thought I would do: actually write a fanfic. I blame Brennan, the cast, and the quarantine. I always had hang-ups about writing my own fanfiction. Possibly because of snobbery, I do have a degree in creative writing. Probably because of exhaustion, I do have a degree in creative writing. Laziness, severe ADHD, too few ideas, too many ideas, too many interests with too short a shelf life, and and innate desire to create new characters coupled with the fear that no one else would be interested in my creations but me. All are likely culprits. But I am a sucker for wholesome content. Jawbone and the Mordred Manor crew and the Bad Kids are pretty peak wholesome clay for my mind mold. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy Jawbone (and my vision of him) as much as I do. Please forgive me for any egregious errors in grammar and spelling. I do what I can, but I am still dyslexic (yes, it made my degree a bitch to get). There will be more to come. Eventually there will be angst like content but Jawbone is so emotionally enlightened that I find him impervious to real angst. I have several other ideas for more wholesome and/or funny fics for this fandom if you have any interest in such.
> 
> Here is the call to action to hit whatever buttons one hits to support another on ao3. Comment your thoughts, constructive criticism, opinions and suggestions. I am very talkative and will likely reply.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Until we meet again, I remain
> 
> your humble servant, 
> 
> Queen Wanderer (Olivia)


End file.
